By JIMMY LOWE
For the Daily Times
GLASGOW —
A significant portion of one’s lifetime is spent in some sort of waiting. There are even places, such as hospitals and automotive service centers, that provide rooms exclusively for that purpose.
How successfully we endure this process of being suspended between events is sometimes determined by what we choose for a waiting companion. For some, engaging in conversation with another waiter may improve the otherwise boredom that waiting often brings. Others may open a book’s pages or turn on a personal headset. Of course, there’s always one’s imagination.
My wife and I spent a day in Nashville last weekend. Our last stop there was to a mall where she wanted to shop for new clothes. She invited me to accompany her into one of those stores, but I declined with “I’m not the Captain of the Fashion Patrol.”
She laughed. “You’re not even a Private in the Patrol. Give me 45 minutes or so.”
As she walked away, I selected one of the comfortable chairs where the store spilled out into the mall. When I sat down, I noticed all the chairs in that little corner were occupied by men.
The first man I noticed looked to be considering something quite serious. He was experiencing one of those stares that seemed to have his eyes fixed on something he wasn’t really seeing. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he trying to solve a moral dilemma or some theological question? Was he calculating how much his wife was likely spending while he waited for her?
To his immediate right, a man was sleeping. He didn’t seem to have any concerns or worries.
Next in our little group was a man who was talking on his cell phone. He was speaking quietly and I was unable to hear his part of the conversation. It must have been a pleasant talk, though, judging by his body language.
Then there was a man in his Blackberry world. He was completely oblivious to all that was around him while he studied the small screen.
Finally, there was the man with his copy of “The Rembrandt Affair” by Daniel Silva. The reading wasn’t holding his attention, though, and he was frequently prone to the mall’s distractions.
I wondered which man would be rescued from this limbo first. Whose wife would be the first to come and claim her man?
Finally, a couple of women came by. One was probably a daughter and the other, her mother. The younger one put her face in front of the sleeping man’s face while the older one gouged him from behind. He awoke with a start and then smiled before walking away with them.
I was the second of the group to be reunited with his wife. As we walked away, it occurred to me that waiting was not so bad when that which one was waiting for, was so good.
